


Waiting for an Angel

by mercurybard



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurybard/pseuds/mercurybard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He waits</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I ever wrote. I think I was 15? 16?

The wind howled fearfully, and the lightning periodically streaked across the blackened sky. The storm had come suddenly and without warning.

A man waited by the large window of the study, as far from the crackling fire as possible. At his elbow, sitting on the windowsill, was a small bird cage with its door wide open. Inside, a single parakeet nodded in sleep on its little perch, unaware or uncaring of its near chance at freedom.

"Come back to me," the man whispered, his expression calm though his eyes carried a hint of worry. "Have you flown too far and been caught in the storm? Come back to me." And then, he fell back to silent watching.

He stood his vigil as the hours rolled passed. Every minute was punctuated painfully by the ticking of the clock over the mantle. On every hour, the clock would chime--a sad ringing that lasted so long that the man felt that his very soul would crumble to dust before the sound faded away. Faded away to nothingness.

Six times, the clock put him through its melancholy torture before the storm, at last, began to abate. Still, the man did not move from beside his window post even as the graying clouds parted and the first rosy rays of dawn peaked through.

The door behind him creaked open, and wet footsteps squeaked across the polished wooden floor. Strong arms encircled the man's waist as one of his hands was gently opened and something soft and warm placed in it.

The man opened his hand and saw the downy green fluff of the lost parakeet--still dry despite the night's deluge. Silently still, he stepped out of the embrace and softly returned the little bird to its cage, leaving the door wide open.

He turned. "You came back to me," he whispered to the rain-soaked figure before him, washed in the water of the floods and in the glory of the brave new dawn that sent its rays to set white-blond hair to flame and to drive away the shadows surrounding blue eyes. Water ran from long hair and trench coat to pool at the feet of the one who, after a night's worried watching, could be thought of as nothing less than an angel.

The angel stepped forward to enclose him once again in an embrace. White hair fell across his face, hiding his eyes again, as the heavenly one spoke softly in his ear, "And you waited."


End file.
